


Just Fighting to Survive

by WalkerKiller21



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bottom Daryl Dixon, Bottom Rick Grimes, Come Inflation, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Shower Sex, Size Kink, Top Daryl Dixon, Top Rick Grimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkerKiller21/pseuds/WalkerKiller21
Summary: What if Lori and Rick Grimes divorced before the outbreak? Before the world went to shit, A small handful of men were carriers, men able to get pregnant and birth children like women. While it wasn't as widely accepted, It was normal.                Marcus Kendall Beauregard is a 36 year old man just Trying to Survive in a world ruled by the Dead when during a raid of Harrison Memorial Hospital, He meets Rick's Grimes, a man whose just woken up to a new world. Marcus decides to help Rick in finding his son, never expecting to fall in love along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

Full Name:  _ **Marcus Kendall Beauregard**_

Age:  _ **36**_

Height:  _ **6"0**_

Family:  _ **None**_


	2. Days Gone by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Meets Rick.

_**-Marcus Pov-** _

 

                I walked along the deserted halls of Harrison Memorial Hospital, Hunting knife clutched in my hand. With my duffel bag on one shoulder, my backpack on my back, and my gun in its Holster, I was alert and cautious as I walked the halls. My backpack was stuffed with Medicine, Suture Kits, Ace bandages, and a first aid kit. In my Duffle bag I had My clothes, a spare weapon, a respirator and the tube that goes with it. I was in desperate need of food, but that was something I'd have to come across later. As I was walking by room 405, I heard a voice. 

 

 

 

                     "That vase--... that's something special. Fess up. You steal that for me at Grandma Jean's house?" The voice spoke with raspy laugh. Pulling the gurney away from the door, I pulled it open to come upon the sight of a man lying on the hospital bed in a gown, nasal Cannula still in place and covered in sweat. "I hope you left her that spoon collection." The man laughed before breaking out into a cough. "Shane?" He asked, looking to his right. My brow furrowed, seeing no one there. "Shane, you in the John?" Not getting a reply, the man looked at the dead flowers on the bedside table. 

 

 

           Reaching out with a weak hand, Rick took one in his hand and rotated his fingers, the brittle corpse of the flower crumbling in his hand. He looked to his left, his gaze on the clock on the wall that had stopped ticking long ago when it's batteries died. I watched as he rose from the bed, weak and tired, only to fall when he stood, taking the IV pole down with him. "Nurse, help! N-nurse!" He rasped out, rolling onto his side. Finally deciding to do something, I walked forward and pulled him up, sitting him on the bed. "Who're you? Y-you don't look like a doctor......" the man murmured. "I'm Marcus Kendall Beauregard, and I was a doctor...... before the outbreak." I spoke, steadying hum as he tried standing again. "Ou--... outbreak?" He rasped out in confusion. 

 

 

 

            "Yes. A few weeks ago, civilization went to shit, pardon my french." I spoke, watching him limp to the bathroom. He gazed in the mirror for a few seconds before I heard the tap switch on and hurried, frantic gulps. I took a look at the chart at the end of his bed, humming as I did so. "Gunshot?" I questioned once he was done. "Yeah." He spoke, his voice no longer a rasp. I followed him out of the room, watching as he took everything in. The lights in the hallway flickered, dangerously close to going off completely. 

 

 

              Following him down the hall, I avoided low hanging wires as papers scattered about the floor rustled as we walked over them. We came upon the receptionist desk and Rick immediately began trying the phone. "The phones have been down ever since this began." I informed him. He sent me a look, one filled with fear and worry, before searching the desk, knocking things off in his rush. "It's not like he can make any of this and more of a mess." I muttered, seeing him pick up a small thing of matches. He made his way down the hall, with me following after him. Coming to a set of double doors, we peered through the window. 

 

 

 

                         In the middle of the hall laid a nurse, or what used to be a nurse. Her Scrubs hung off her frame in tatters, her blonde hair knotted and tangled, what little skin she had left pale. The skin around her eyes dark, and blood spattered. A walker had come along and eaten all the skin off her chest and had eaten out her stomach, leaving nothing but blood, Bones and Intestines, her legs coated in blood, arms nothing but muscle. Shaking in horror, Rick pushed away from the doors, Stumbling away in the other direction. 

 

 

             This hallway was darker and more gruesome. Bullet holes and blood lined the walls as little light shined down from holes in the ceiling, put there when the military began dropping Napalm on the city. Wires hung haphazardly and papers littered the floor. A pool of blood was nearby room 432, bloody hand prints leading away a few feet before stopping. It looked as if someone had tried to crawl away from the military as they were executing both the sick and healthy, but failed. The closed door rattled as we walked past, indicating that whatever was behind the door was alive and hungry.

 

 

 

              We carefully stepped around the broken glass in the middle of the hallway, coming upon another set of double doors, chained shut with a padlock and a long plank of wood slid into the handles for extra measure. Someone had spray painted the doors, reading ' _Don't open, Dead inside_ ' warning all away. Thumping and Moaning emanated from the doors as they shook and rattled. The doors were pushed open a bit and grey, decaying hands with long fingernails slipped through the crack, the chain and wood only keeping the doors from being opened. Rick all but flew away from the doors and walked to the elevator, hitting the button repeatedly before giving up.

 

 

       

                 We went to the stairway, and Rick struck a match to light our way. Of all the things I had, I didn't have a fucking flashlight, so we had to rely on Rick's matches. "Ah!" Rick gasped as the flame finally reached his fingers, throwing that one away before striking a new one. This continued until we made it outside to the ambulance bay around back. The door clang ed and bugs chittered as we walked down the steps. The ambulance bay was littered with bodies wrapped in blood stained white sheets, all tied up. 

 

 

 

                I followed Rick up the grassy hill, wrinkling my nose at the smell of death and swatting away a few flies. Atop the hill was a helicopter and a military camp, all abandoned. As we walked up the street, Rick soon found a red bicycle. A few feet away, was the upper half of a body, that wasn't as dead as it should've been. "Ah. Ah. Oh shit!" Rick gasped as the body suddenly rolled over onto it's back, hissing and growling as it tried it's damndest to get to Rick. I helped Rick up, helping him onto the bike. 

 

 

 

 

             I jogged after Rick until we came to a stop in front of a house. Rick scrambled up the steps, calling out the name of a woman and boy. "Lori. Lori! Shane! Carl!" He cried, distraught when they didn't answer. I watched in the doorway, sadness etched across my face as he fell to the ground, sobbing. Rick slowly stood and made his way out of the house. After a few seconds, I followed after him and sat beside him on the steps leading up to the house. I put my head in my hands, groaning softly in exhaustion. I never saw the person sneaking up behind us until it was too late. Then, everything went black.

 

 

_**-Time Skip-** _

 

                     I awoke some time later tied on a bed spread eagle. Blinking away in confusion, I realized Rick was lying next to me, tied like I was. Hearing the familiar snapping of rubber gloves, I turned my head to the side to see man standing there, back turned to us. Turning my head to the left, I saw a boy standing there wielding a baseball bat. "You got that bandage changed now. It was pretty rank. What was it? The wound?" The man questioned Rick. "Gunshot." Rick answered, turning his head to stare at the man. "Gunshot?" The man asked immediately. "What else? Anything?" He added after a second. "Gunshot ain't enough?" Rick sassed, trying to sink back into the mattress as the man walked closer. 

 

 

 

                     "Look, I ask and you answer. That's common courtesy, right?" The man asked before leaning in real close. "Did you get bit?" He asked emphatically. "Bit?" Rick asked in confusion, never taking his eyes off the man. "Bit, chewed, maybe scratched--.... anything like that?" The man demanded. "No I got shot. Just shot as far as I know." Rick told him. The mean reached out, and Rick flinched as it came closer to his face. "Hey. Just let me." He ordered, before pressing his hand to Rick's forehead. "Feels cool enough, "He told the boy before turning back to Rick, "fever would've killed you by now." Rick looked at me before looking back at him. "I don't think I have one." He murmured softly. 

 

 

 

                  "Be hard to miss." The man spoke before taking out a knife from his back pocket. "Take a moment, look how sharp it is. You try anything, and I will kill you with it." He Stated, Holding It In Front Of Our faces. "And don't you think I won't." With that in mind, he reached put and cut the ropes binding us to the bed. "Come on out when you're able." He spoke,walking away with the boy. 

 

 

 

             Minutes Later, we walked into the kitchen to the sound of a ladle scraping the bottom of a pot. "This place--...... Fred and Cindy Drake's?" Rick questioned quietly as he walked around the house. "Never met them." The man said. "I've been here. This is their place." Rick commented, walking over to the window. 

__


	3. Guts

_**-Marcus' Pov-** _

 

 

                    Rick and I sat in the van with the others. "Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back. Except maybe Daryl." Morales spoke, a hint of fear in his voice. "Daryl?" Rick and I echoed in Unison, that name a bit familiar to me. "His brother." Morales answered. A blaring car alarm sounded as Glenn sped past us, hollering as if he was king of the earth. "At least somebody's having a good day." I commented, running a hand through my hair. Everything was silent as we rode into their camp, the van pulling to a stop. Seconds earlier, we'd heard the car alarm shut off. 

 

   

          

                 "Come meet everybody." Morales told us as the engine cut off. The sliding door opened and Andrea all but fell out of the back to get to her sister. Rick and I sat in the van, hearing everyone reunite. "Hey! Helicopter boys! Come say hello!" We exited the van at Morales' shout. "Guys a cop, like you." I heard Morales tell a man. "Oh my god." Rick breathed as he spotted a little boy, one from the picture Rick had. "Dad! Dad!" The boy yelled, running to his father. "Carl!" Rick cried as he caught the boy. 

 

**_-Time Skip-_ **

 

            Later that night, we all sat around the camp fire. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion. All those things. But disoriented comes closest." Rick spoke, arms wrapped around his son, who'd been clinging to him since we got back. "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short." Dale spoke. "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream. Something I night not wake up from, ever." Rick spoke.

 

 

 

           "Mom and Shane said you died." Carl told him, looking up at him from his position between Rick's legs. "They had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick told his boy. "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened." Lori told him from her position at Shane's side. "Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Rick told her. "Yeah." She agreed. "And from the look of that hospital, It got overrun." Rick told us.

 

 

 

        "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out, you know?" Shane said, looking right at Rick. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane." Rick told him. "There go those words falling short again. Paltry things." Dale spoke as wood clattered together from a smaller fire across from ours. I tuned out as Shane and Ed almost got into it over one little log. "So, how do you know Rick, Marcus?" Dale asked kindly, knocking me out of my thoughts. But before I could answer, Rick did for me.

 

 

              "I met Marcus in the hospital. He saved me." Rick piped up. "Told me all about what was going on." He added after a moment. Standing, I made my way to the tent I'd been given upon arriving. Lying down in the cot, I pulled the blanket up to my shoulders, closed my eyes and let the sound of Thunder lull me to sleep.

 

- ** _Next morning-_**

 

 

           I woke up to blinding light filling the tent. Turning my head to the side, I saw two messy cots next to mine. Realizing that Rick and Carl must've already been up, I sat up from my cot and rubbed my eyes blearily. The sound of bugs chittering and children playing filled my ears as I changed out of Last night's clothes and into some new ones.


End file.
